


Bluebeard's Daughter

by muertxdeamor



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Kinda, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Season 3 Finale, Sexuality Crisis, Will and Hannibal are unable to talk to each other like normal people, Will darling ur bisexual, that needs to be a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-03-02 20:56:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muertxdeamor/pseuds/muertxdeamor
Summary: Hannibal smiled."So her name is Molly.""Oh, please. He would have told you. Any survival instinct would be not to tell you things but luckly for you, Will Graham has the survival instinct of a fawn.""I'm afraid you are wrong.""No, I'm not. Deep down, when it comes to you he has no survival instinct, and when it comes to him you have no survival instinct. Both of you are pretty much useless around each other."





	1. The Great Red Dragon

**1.  
**

 

“Here is your coffee, sir. Do you want a magazine?”

 

Francis would have told the waitress that _No, thank you,_ he didn't want the magazine, thank you very much. But he looked at it and saw that image. It felt like the very first time watching himself on a mirror and so Francis took the magazine. It took him seconds to read that it is called _The Great Red Dragon_ , and his waitress (a young, pretty thing with red hair) was long gone by then. He didn't mind it.

“The Great Red Dragon.” he mumbled, and it felt _right_ , to finally have a name.

 

-o-

 

She stepped out of the café and threw the uniform in the first bin she saw. She felt kind of relieved; the uniform had been too big and uncomfortable on her small frame. The woman she had killed barely half an hour ago was bigger than her. Also, the uniform had some blood drops. It was a fact: people don't give a damn about _anything_ pointing towards a killer if it is before they get their caffeine. Hell, she could have walked in that café completely covered in blood and most people probably wouldn't even look up from their phones. Talking about phones....

 

She took out her phone and wrote a text, carefully avoiding the people walking around her.

 

_ To: Bae♥_

_It's done. I really wanna find out how all of this will evolve._

 

It didn't take five minutes before she got a text back.

 

_From: Bae♥_

_K. It's worth a celebration... I'm cooking dinner._

 

_To: Bae♥_

_omg ffs, don't burn the house down._

 

_From: Bae♥_

_look who's talking_

_XXX_

 

Giggling like a damn teenager, she got on the first bus back home. She didn't fully trust Barbara not to burn the house down (hell, she didn't trust _herself_ not to burn it down), but she didn't mind it. Made for an interesting coexistence between the two of them.

 

She paid the ticket and got her thermos from her bag with some difficulties because the bus was crowded and she was standing between an old lady and some average man. She took a small sip and smiled. Her favourite beverage was still warm, just how she liked it.

 

The bus was getting close to her stop when she felt it. The man behind her, moving his hand up her leg and over her ass, his other hand trying to go under her jumper. She breathed in slowly and didn't say anything until she got to her stop; it was then when she took a huge sip from her thermos and turned around. Her groper looked mildly surprised, at least until she swallowed down and smiled, because then he screamed bloody murder. She took a bit of childlish pleasure in spitting at him, quickly getting of the bus afterwards and walking away.

 

She saw Mrs. Ramírez, their neighbor, walking towards her and her first reaction was to cover her mouth with her scarf. Luckly, the older woman seemed to be in a hurry because she didn't stop to talk, and she was relieved. She didn't want to kill Mrs. Ramírez. Not yet, at least. Carefully, she used one finger to wipe the blood away from her lips and teeth, and then sucked at her finger until it was completely clean. In her other hand, she held tight the thermos.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>Judith is the name of the main character of the apocryphal Book of Judith. She killed the invading Assyrian commander Holofernes by beheading him in his sleep.  
> >>Roig is a catalonian surname that means "red (haired, complexioned)"  
> >>The title of the chapter comes, as most in this fandom know, from the painting "The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun" by William Blake


	2. Innocence

**2.**

 

_She saw Mrs. Ramírez, their neighbor, walking towards her and her first reaction was to cover her mouth with her scarf. Luckily, the older woman seemed to be in a hurry because she didn't stop to talk, and she was relieved. She didn't want to kill Mrs. Ramírez. Not yet, at least. Carefully, she used one finger to wipe the blood away from her lips and teeth, and then sucked at her finger until it was completely clean. In her other hand, she held tight the thermos._

It wasn't always that way, you know. But when Judith was starting to walk and fell down more often than not, she would always try to taste her own blood from her scraped knees. When her first -and last- friend at that private school was beaten up, she helped him and later licked his blood from her own hand. She would leave tremendous hickies on her first boyfriend, always licking the blood from his neck. If he didn't like it, he never said otherwise.

 

Judith didn't quite stand out in their little neighborhood in the _right_ part of Barcelona. Pretty in an average way, her true intelligence hidden away until it was a more proper time for a kid her age to show it because even back then, she knew that other children weren't as smart as her. Red hair like her mother, freckles like her uncle, brown eyes from... From her grandfather? Her eyes definitely stood out. Other kids didn't like looking her in the eye and Judith had overheard her uncle talking to her mother about how it wasn't right for a kid to have those eyes. That they seemed cold, unnatural. Her mother had just laughed.

 

Judith didn't quite stand out. However, her mother had, in the past. When María Roig had a kid, unwed and unwilling to speak about the father of her baby, everybody in the high society of Barcelona would talk about what a slut she was. Everybody would talk about how she was given two options and she chose her baby, her suitcase and her damn nursing degree. Fortunately, María's older brother chose her too and gave María his own part of the money when their mother died. Judith never missed having those elderly bastards in her life and grew up with everything she could need or want. Any toy, any book. Dancing lessons, ballet shoes, trips abroad.

 

She had almost anything, but a father. And blood.

 

Her mother barely told her anything about her father, not even when Judith was little and other kids asked her about her dad (those infuriating, nasty kids who knew very well that Judith did not have a father, because that was what they had been told by their mothers, but kids will be kids and kids are mean). Over the years María told Judith just enough so she wouldn't ask anymore and the little the girl knew about her father, she soaked it up like a sponge. She always wondered, where was he? What was his name, his face? What did he do? Did he even know about Judith?

 

About blood... Well. She wasn't an addict. Not fully, at least. Of that, Judith was sure after she took a class about AIDS and became too scared of getting some illness. She spent a month without tasting any blood at all and then another month without tasting any blood that wasn't her own until she became sick. She was able to pass it as anemy, even if her mother wouldn't fully believe her, but it was then when she started to plan things.

Judith couldn't drink her own blood on a daily basis. She didn't have access to any drugs that could make a person sleep while she got her blood; her mother didn't keep anything but painkillers at home (and besides, drugs would probably change the taste). Her uncle was old and mute, he would not be able to stop her but that would be plain rude. Besides, he was her family, and one doesn't play with family. Not to permanently harm them, at least.

 

And with the amount of blood she wanted there was going to be a lot of harm involved, that was for sure.

 

Judith finally chose him, the man that had hurt her mother the most, an old but healthy man. It wasn't difficult at all to get inside the house; her mother had told Judith about how the window of her old bedroom would never fully close. It was late so she found him sleeping in his own room. Judith had watched enough TV shows to know what to know. Her hair was already in a braid, her feet inside shoes a size too big, her hands covered by gloves. The knife she used, she took it from the kitchen and sank it in his neck. She wasn't sure of where the most important arteries and veins where so Judith just stabbed the old man again and over again until her arm felt numb, and then she drank until her stomach felt full. Leaving the knife next to the body, she grabbed a bottle of bleach from the cleaning room and poured it all over the spots her mouth had touched.

 

She was in and out in less than thirty minutes.

 

Judith arrived to her house barefoot after tossing the shoes in the sewerage, her black clothes hiding most of the blood on her. She got inside through her own window and turned on the lights only to watch her reflection on the mirror. Her lips were sticky and red from blood and there were a lot of small drops of it all over her face. Those looked like her freckles and made Judith giggle. She just found herself really pretty at that moment.

 

And then her door opened, and there she stood María on her nightgown, and Judith froze on the spot like a deer in front of the lights. Had it been any other person, even her uncle, she would have fought and killed them. But it was her mother. And Judith was covered in blood almost from head to toe.

She didn't have time to say or do anything before María hugged her tightly, not minding the blood.

"Oh my god, you are like him."

 

The rest of the night was pure chaos. After Judith told her mother who she had killed (María didn't seem to give a damn about her father's death) the older woman's main focus was to get her out of Spain as soon as possible.

"Everything will point towards us. I'm not on his last will, you know it, and they'll consider that a motive." María said, tossing a handful of Judith's clothes inside a bag. Judith frowned.

"But they won't find the evidence. I was careful. And I poured bleach on him. It destroys DNA, right?"

"Right. Good girl."

 

María kissed her forehead and took out her phone then. She googled a name, wrote down a direction and then put that paper inside the bag too.

"Who is that?"

"Your father."

 

Judith blinked, surprised and not expecting that at all. The only things she knew about her father were that he was a reputable man in his field, very busy, that he didn't know about Judith (María had told her that the year before, and it had felt like a punch to the guts) and that María had no way to contact him. However, María's quick google search had proven that an utter lie.

“Why?” Judith blurted out. María, very focused on putting Judith's ballet shoes inside a box, didn't look up.

“I may have exaggerated a bit when I said that you are like him. I don't think... He... There is no term for what he is, I knew it back then even with a simple nursing degree.” María sighed. “You have to understand, if I'm alive it is because he somehow found me interesting. Then he left and I realized that I was pregnant. But I was afraid, Judith. Babies are a little less interesting than adults.”

“But you aren't afraid now.” Judith guessed. María's smile was a little sad.

“No, I'm not. You are his daughter and you are like him. Kind of.” she gently petted Judith's hair. “He would have to be a fool not to find you interesting. And he is everything but a fool.”

 

María booked the flight while Judith packed the last things she would need... Wherever she was going.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to turn me in, when they come looking for us? It would save you a lot of trouble.”

“Never. I'd rather die.” María said, looking at Judith from the desk with a frown on her pretty face. It reminded her daughter of a lioness. “I don't care what you do, you are my daughter. They'll get to you over my dead body.”

 

And Judith smiled, thinking that if she was... Whatever she was, and if there was no term for what her father was, then her mother wasn't truly normal either.

 

Judith deleted all her social media accounts, threw her phone in the toilet and pulled the string. In Judith's room, María stuffed a bunch of cash inside different pairs of socks before putting them inside the bag. Judith knew her mother's definition of 'cash' and knew that she wouldn't have to worry about the money.

“I'll take care of the room and the clothes,” María promised. “Do you remember what you have to do?”

“Take the train on Washington to Baltimore, go to his office. I wrote down the address again, just in case I lose the paper.” Judith said, pulling up her jeans to show her mother the skin on her ankle where she had copied the address. 687 Bayshore Avenue - Suite 200, Baltimore, MD, 21161. María smiled and kissed her forehead."By the way, is it any good ballet studio there?"

"Judith, _focus_."

 

Judith left on a plane headed to Washington DC without looking back. She had nobody to consider a real friend and honestly, she didn't give a shit about her so-called boyfriend. She would have liked to go once more to the ballet studio, or to sign goodbye to her uncle, but she could live without it. She just left.

 

On the plane, she tried to change the way she looked. Just in case. She took her bag and patiently waited until the old lady left the toilet. The poor woman seemed to be really sorry about taking so much time, but Judith just smiled and helped her back to her seat. Judith really liked old people, she thought while she locked herself in the small toilet. At least those people that wouldn't believe her a stereotypical hair-headed, moody millennial and wouldn't treat her as such. Those were often very nice people.

 

Using the cheap makeup bought at the airport, she covered the freckles on her face and neck. Then she put her hair in a tight braid and took from her bag a woolen dress with sleeves long enough to cover her arms and even her hands if she pulled. Getting out of her jeans inside the little toilet was a pain in the ass, and putting on the woolen tights another one. But she wanted to change her look and honestly, nobody who had seen her before could even guess that the girl with no freckles and the dress was the same Judith that used to dress in dark jeans and hoodies and wear her hair all over her face. There was, however, nothing she could do about the color of her hair. Damn it, she should have bought hair dye at the airport.

 

When she landed in Washington DC it was getting dark and it was snowing, and it was so freaking cold that she had to buy a thicker coat before leaving the airport. Then she took the train, and then a taxi. Money wasn't a problem and she really didn't want to end her first day on the USA with (more) blood on her hands if somebody tried to mess with her on the streets. There would be time enough for that, later. Now she needed to find him.

 

Judith told the taxi driver to leave her her two streets apart from her destination, just in case. It took her barely four minutes to get there but the smile on her face disappeared when she found the place closed. Obviously. It was too late, she sighed, calling again the taxi.

 

She spent the night at a nearby hotel that seemed clean and pretty, and fancy enough that they would gladly bring her breakfast to her room. Judith gave the waiter a small tip and closed the door behind her with her foot, munching her toast and flopping into the bed. She took the smartphone she had stolen the night before from a drunk man on the hall and googled his name again to see when he would open the office. Reading the first entry, both her smile and her toast fell.

 

_TattleCrime: SPECIAL ISSUE, LECTER CAUGHT!_

 

What the hell...? Quickly, she dove in the information, reading so quickly that the world around her faded away. Baltimore, Abigail Hobbs, Florence, Wolf Trap, and a man called William Graham in every single article about Hannibal Lecter. Judith blocked the phone, struggling to breathe. What. The. Hell. What the hell had happened? How had he been caught? Why had he been on the flight all over fucking Europe and then the US and her mother hadn't told Judith? No, María couldn't have known that. Otherwise, she would have never sent her to the USA on her own, Judith was sure.

 

Judith unblocked the phone. A quick search on the spanish twitter told her that, apparently, Spain's government was kinda embarrassed about the whole thing. After all, Hannibal had been in Barcelona years ago (twenty years ago, to be more specific) after his crimes in Italy, and they hadn't been able to catch him. And, well, in case of a flight the response was not to warn the citizens about a cannibal serial killer possibly being in the country. No to alert the police, not to put his photo on the media. Honestly. What the fuck, Rajoy?

 

Another search, that one not so quick, told Judith that Hannibal was being held in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Under normal circumstances he would be in jail. However, somebody called J. Crawford had been really pushy about Hannibal being kept apart from regular prisoners. And the whole FBI had been on a with(cannibal)hunt, so there was already a date for the trial. Okay. Judith could work with that. She had come all the way from Barcelona just to meet him (and, you know. To get away from the whole murdering-her-grandfather thing) and some doors between Hannibal and the outside weren't going to stop her.

 

-o-

 

It turned out, there were five doors between Hannibal and the outside. Judith found that out after finding a nurse on Tinder that looked just like her, tricking her to quit her job (Judith might or might not have traumatized the other girl in the process) and using her id and some makeup in order to look older and to get a job as a nurse called Hannah Lewis, the official newbie at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. And being the newbie she would have never been allowed near their most dangerous patient if it wasn't because there weren't so many nurses willing to work with him. Actually, there were none. Many had even quit their jobs at the hospital. Good for Judith.

 

And... Honestly. Hannibal had even stated it on his trial. Eat the rude. Well, mainly. But even so, was it that difficult to be polite around him? That way one could feel mildly safe around him. Right?

 

“By law, we aren't allowed to record any video of him even if you are working at the time,” Dr. Bloom told Judith before she went in. “But we are allowed to record conversations. Most of them. If there is any problem, just scream. I'll be listening, and there are guards at the door.”

 

Judith was seriously thankful to whatever regulations allowed her to be alone with Hannibal. Something about doctor-patient confidentiality, even if she wasn't a doctor. Hell, she wasn't even a real nurse. It didn't matter when she went inside his room. Cell? Whatever. It was indeed a cell but it didn't look like that. A huge crystal wall separated him from the outside and the inside was kind of pretty, all in white with dark golden ornamentations. He had a desk with drawing materials, a bed, a small toilet.

She smiled a bit when she saw the plastic cookware. Were it to avoid suicides or to stop Hannibal from killing somebody, Judith could think of about five ways to do both. And, well. He had freaking pencils. Perfect to stab somebody, or to kill himself. She wondered if that had been done on purpose. Hoping that the Chesapeake Ripper would kill himself, maybe?

“Good morning, Dr. Lecter,” she said, smiling. “My name is Hannah Lewis, and I will be your nurse.”

 

The first thing Judith became aware of, was his height. She felt tiny next to him and she wasn't short to begin with. Then his eyes, just like hers. Well, she didn't have grandpa's eyes after all. Judith held the nursing kit tighter but after a few seconds during which he inhaled deeply, Hannibal gave her a little smile and a nod.

“Good morning, miss. I would introduce myself but I am afraid that most of the country already knows my name.”

 

Judith chuckled but managed to hide it behind a cough. Kinda. Not at all, if Hannibal's apparent amusement told her anything.

“May I ask why do you need my services, doctor?” Judith asked. “On your file it is stated that you were healed from the injuries you sustained before your trial.”

 

And, well, he was a freaking doctor. Why would he need a nurse? She was truly curious about that.

“You may.” Hannibal nodded. “I happened to be thrown out of a window. By somebody who ate at my table, if I may add. And, well. Truth to be told, I am not young anymore. I must admit that my leg still hurts me even if nothing was broken.”

“Alright. Let's take a look at it. Please, doctor, remove your trousers.”

 

Hannibal sat on his bed after removing his trousers. Judith hadn't actually expected him to do as he was told, and, well. It made things a bit awkward.

 _I'm afraid your leg will keep on hurting you, doctor, at least for a while._ she signed. Hannibal didn't look that surprised. What would take for him to actually be surprised? Judith wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

 _In that case, can I ask why you and I aren't speaking English?_ he signed back, making Judith smile a bit. She had made her research. Some of Hannibal's former patients (well. Those that were still alive) had been deaf, either born that way or due to an accident, an illness, getting older. Others just didn't feel comfortable speaking out loud. And they all had posted on the internet, on his reviews, how grateful they had been of finding such a psychiatrist who also knew his way around ASL.

 

And something that amused Judith immensely, was how good Hannibal's reviews were even after people became aware of his murders.

 

 _You already have._ Judith signed before remembering that Dr. Bloom was listening. “Okay, the gastrocnemius seems indeed to be quite damaged.”

“Just what I thought,” Hannibal answered, still looking her in the eyes. Judith breathed in.

_María Roig, a nurse. Barcelona. Twenty years ago, more or least. Pretty sure you left something behind. Even if you didn't know it._

 

Judith could see it in his eyes, the way he scrutinized her hair, her freckles, her eyes, before coming to terms with the truth.

 _Well, now I must ask what kind of daughter I have. You came all the way from Barcelona to... What? Did you even know I am your father? I can't imagine little, sweet María telling you who I am. What I am._ he ended his signing with an eyebrow perfectly raised.

 _Oh, but she did._ Judith smiled a bit. _Well, not until two months ago. But it was a nice surprise. And, to answer your question, you have the kind of daughter that would ask you how to hide a body. I don't want to get caught. I've been too close to that before, not something I would want to repeat. It took leaving mum behind for me to scape._

 

María was struggling with the police and the lawyers, and Judith knew that. She had even thought about going back but her mother had opposed that immediately and almost ended the call. She would take it, whatever it was, and Judith wasn't going to waste her mother's efforts.

 

 _Well,_ Hannibal signed. _I would certainly consider to eat it up. Do you like cooking?_

 

Judith shrugged.

_I haven't had a lot of practice. Would you teach me?_

 

Hannibal smiled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>The title is inspired by William-Adolphe Bouguereau's "L'innocence", because I like the image of the mother, her child and a little lamb (Wrath of the Lamb, anybody?) and well, this chapters shows that Judith was never trully innocent...


	3. Slaying Holofernes

**3.**

 

It was really nice to finally have a father. Judith loved her mother, and her uncle, but Hannibal was quite lovable on his own. They told each other many things. How Hannibal met María (he got injured while taking care of a victim, and María happened to be nearby. She didn't take a no for an answer and didn't give a shit about the beast in Hannibal's eyes), about Judith's interests (Hannibal found ballet and art two very elegant hobbies), about cooking (Judith was still quite bad and Hannibal's fancy meals weren't the best option for somebody who had just started cooking, but she was getting there) and most important, who Chiyoh was.

 _Well, you can't blame me!_ Judith signed, trying not to laugh. _This asian lady with a rifle starts to follow me around, you can't expect me to find it normal._

 _I really like your standard for normality._ Hannibal smiled. _And Chiyoh has always been very protective of me. I guess it now applies to you too._

 

Hannibal also taught her how to massage his leg. It truly hurt him, but when Judith even tried to suggest that maybe they should find a proper nurse, Hannibal would have “None of that nonsense, my dear.”

 

One day Judith saw Hannibal drawing a man with unruly hair and then her father told her a bit about Will, the man with an incredible mind very much like Hannibal's but still different due to his impossible imagination, his empathy. About Alana, sweet Alana who hadn't been able to see Hannibal until it was too late. Jack, using Will, pushing him to his true self when even Hannibal was warning him about it. Margot, Mason, Florence. Abigail.

_Would you do that to me?_

_What, my dear?_

_Would you kill me?_

_Would you kill me?_

 

They didn't answer each other and Judith found it alright.

 

-o-

 

The USA was weird.

Their food was weird (they put butter on so many things?), their reactions were weird (in Judith's opinion, new laws were more effective than praying after school shootings, but whatever, it wasn't her country)... Hell, even their president was weird (and orange), although the Spanish president was also very shitty in Judith's opinion so it was a draw.

 

But, yeah, the food was weird (canned bread, what the actual...?) and Judith wasn't sure of what she was buying, so she ended up buying more and different stuff, just in case. She left the store and was struggling with her groceries when she saw them. A young couple, barely older than her, arguing in the middle of the parking lot of the supermarket. Well, more than arguing he was yelling and she was crying. She tried to grab his arm but he pushed her away and left, cursing under his breath. He hit Judith's shoulder while passing next to her. Judith smiled for a second before approaching the other girl.

“Hey,” Judith said, leaving the groceries on the floor to put her hand on the other girl's shoulder. “Can I...?”

 

Judith blinked, surprised when the other girl launched at her and hugged her. The poor thing was crying so hard that there was nothing Judith could do but to hug her back.

 

The girl's name was Sandra, she was pregnant and her asshole of a boyfriend (Jeff) had just walked out on her.

“What a dick... He had the nerve to tell me that I have done this on purpose, and then to ask me if it was his.” Sandra said, sniffing, once she had calmed down. Judith raised an eyebrow.

“And he didn't believe you.”

“No, he didn't.” Sandra snorted. “Better to call your girlfriend a whore instead of taking your part of responsibility, I guess.”

“Fucker... Hey, it isn't my business, but are you going to keep it? Can I help you somehow?” Judith asked. The girl shook her head.

“I... I don't know. But don't worry about me. I have people that will support me no matter what.” Sandra gave her a weak smile. “Listen, I have to do. My dorm is pretty strict with the curfew, but... Thank you. I would have freaked out if I had been alone after he said all those things to me.”

 

They exchanged numbers at Sandra's insistence (“I'll have to repay you somehow” she said, and Judith wasn't straight enough to deny a possible date with a pretty girl) and parted ways after Sandra kissed Judith's cheek.

 

Judith stood on the spot for a few seconds, blushing and touching her cheek, before allowing her smile to become wider and wilder and walking in the same direction Jeff had.

 

-o-

 

“For Fuck's sake tell me it isn't what I think it is.”

 

Jack was starting to have a relatively good life. No, he hadn't overcome Bella's death and probably he wouldn't during the rest of his life, but he was learning to... To live with it. Will Graham was away, presumably safe and without a cannibal serial killer in his mind. Alana and Margot were getting married and Jack was invited (he didn't really like parties, but he was happy for them).

 

All in all, life was as good as an FBI Special Agent and Head of Behavioral Sciences could expect. And the body found that morning predicted that his 'good' life was coming to an end.

"Jeffrey Sanders, 20. His girlfriend Sandra reported his disappearance two days ago when he didn't come back to their dorm. They had a huge argument about something, but the girl was worried. I don't think she did it.” Jimmy clicked his tongue. “Poor Sandra. What a pity.”

“I'd say that the cause of death is pretty clear. He was beheaded, whoever did it had no idea of how to chop a head, and it was done while he was still alive but had very little blood left. He... He's also missing the tongue.”

 

Jack sighed at Brian's words.

“Was the tongue taken while he was still alive?”

“It seems so,” Brian said, kneeling to open the mouth and allow Jack to see it. “But whoever did it, they were weaker than this man. Or smaller, or both. Probably a woman. Jeffrey was tied up when he was killed, see the marks on his wrists? And... Yup, I'd say he was exsanguinated too.”

“Thoroughly.” Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “There isn't almost livor mortis.”

“So, we have a beheaded guy with no blood left in his body, a tongue that was taken while he was alive, and displayed in the middle of a park with his head surrounded by...”

“Green willow leaves,” Brian told him, examining one of the leaves closely. “Grandpa had one of these trees in his backyard, I recognize the leaves. And there are no willows in this area, I have already checked.”

 

The three of them became silent for some minutes while the rest of the team took pictures and did their thing in the crime scene. Jack looked at the small group of people gathering around the police cordon, but he didn't feel relieved when he didn't see Freddie Lounds among the people.

“I can't be the only one feeling that...”

“That this is a Chesapeake Ripper copycat? No, you aren't.” Jimmy shook his head. Brian frowned.

“Lecter couldn't be the only guy that killed people and took organs while they were still alive. Besides, the blood is new. Lecter didn't take it, right?”

Jack wanted to say that no, Lecter didn't take the blood, but Jack had eaten sanguinaccio dolce at Lecter's house and the damn dessert was supposedly prepared with pig blood, so Jack kept his mouth closed.

 

"Maybe, but... Come on, look at this.” Jimmy pointed at the whole scene. “This whole aesthetic screams 'Lecter'. The guy must be proud. He got himself his own copycat even while imprisoned.”

 

-o-

 

 _Alana is pregnant._ Judith signed one day. She had just seen her small belly bump, noticeable even under the loose trousers Alana had been wearing.

_I know. She hasn't come to see me for almost four months so I couldn't see it. She got pregnant a little bit before you arrived._

 

Judith frowned.

_How did you know it? She is barely showing right now._

_Easy. I smelled it. The same way I smelled you as soon as you came here._

_Oh. I thought..._

_I knew it before I saw your eyes, my dear. I only wanted to know how you would react._

 

Judith raised an eyebrow. Anyway...

_Would you really kill that baby? I'm just curious, you don't have to answer._

_In order to get to Alana? Probably. If I get to the baby before I get to Alana? Probably. Otherwise? I don't think so._ Hannibal shrugged a bit. _That baby hasn't done anything to me but to be born from Alana. But, let the mother think what she may. The same would apply to Margot. I actually liked her, until she decided to have her own Verger baby... Without the father's opinion in the matter, may I add._

 

Will. Judith would have to be blind not to see her father's obsession with Will's mind, with Will himself. Call it an obsession, call it love. Whatever. Besides, she was almost one hundred percent sure that if Hannibal ever surrendered it was because of Will. A dirty, twisted trick to never allow the younger man to forget Hannibal under the pretense of not knowing where Hannibal was. But in Judith's opinion, it had been Will's trick as well. She had read the articles, she had listened to her father. Pretending not to care about Hannibal anymore? Letting him go? Surely, Will would have known the result. Judith's question then was if Hannibal had been aware of the trick, or if he had allowed himself to be tricked. By Will.

  
Judith kind of hated to think that her father would have allowed Will to manipulate him in such a way.

She had met Will. From a distance. It took a while to locate him. Alana's baby was six months old when Judith managed to find Will living in the middle of Nowhere, Virginia. But there was only one vet in the zone so Judith just chose to wait instead of going to his house and... What, looking through the windows? She wasn't the lovesick cannibal in the story.

Soon enough, he appeared there with a bunch of dogs, a small kid and a woman. His fianceé, if their rings told Judith anything. Judith smiled. Will didn't look like a happy groom-to-be. Sure, he looked happy enough, but in a... Moderate way. Not truly happy, but mildly pleased, as if he knew that his actual situation was it, the end. He wasn't going to get anything else, but he could live without ~~Hannibal~~ it.

That Will could live without Hannibal (and that was definitely still up to debate) didn't mean, however, that he _had_ to live without Hannibal.

 

 _Father, I'm getting a little bored of you being here._ Judith signed one day. Hannibal looked at her and didn't say anything for a while. Judith could almost see his thoughts. Many of them went somewhere along the lines of 'Will still hasn't come to visit me. It has been almost a year. I am a sad cannibal in denial.'

_Well. If you have any plan, I'm all ears._

_Oh, please. Father, you could have scaped months ago if you wanted to._ Judith grimaced, gently patting his arm. _You know he isn't coming. He won't even if that destroys both of you in the process. Unless..._

 

Hannibal looked at Judith, encouraging her to speak, but she just frowned.

_Give... Give me time. I think I... Yeah, it will be funny._

-o-

 

Judith thought about it for a week, but it made sense. There hadn't been truly horrifying murders since Hannibal got imprisoned. Will had retired and Crawford had been happy to let him go. But as far as Judith knew, Crawford hadn't had Will's mental health among his priorities. What would happen if Crawford needed him again?  What would be the best way for Crawford to need Will again?

 

And Will, poor Will, he had never been able to stop saving lives. Even while he took others.

 

She needed information, the real information about Hannibal. About his crimes, his... Style. Who, where, when, why, how. Not another little tale about what Judith's mother said one day that made Hannibal realize 'Oh, well, she's kinda interesting. Might as well leave her alive'. Judith needed information about Will, the way he really thought, his murders (because there was no fucking way that guy hadn't killed anybody without it being self-defense).

 

Hannibal wouldn't really tell her anything important, be it because he didn't fully trust her (And why should he trust her? Just because she was his daughter?) or for some other reason. Crawford and Dr. Bloom were a big no-no, it would raise too many suspicions and Dr. Bloom already knew Judith's face. Will was even a bigger no-no; if somebody was able to see past her red hair and her freckles and focus on Hannibal's eyes in hers, that would be Will. Abigail was dead.

 

Freddie Lounds, however, didn't have any reason to be wary of Judith, didn't know her and couldn't relate her to Hannibal, and was very much alive and on Tinder.

 

-o-

 

Hungover mornings were the absolute fucking worse. Judith was tempted to just close her eyes again and sleep for another couple of hours. Outside it was still mostly dark, the room was quiet and the bed had the perfect temperature with the sheets being kind of cold and a warm body snuggled up to Judith's back. (Turns out that the infamous Freddie Lounds is a cuddler.) So, yeah, all in all, Judith would have loved to just stay there without moving, but she had stuff to do.

 

Sighing, Judith got out of bed trying not to wake Freddie up and put on the shirt she had been wearing the night before while looking around. Freddie's motel room was small but tidy, and didn't look like somebody was actually living there. Freddie may had just moved there or she was simply the kind of person that doesn't leave personal effects around. It was the bed, a small wardrobe, a kitchen, a little bathroom and a desk with a laptop on it. But Judith wasn't interested in the computer. It would be protected by a password and honestly, you either fuck somebody or try to get a password from them, _not both at the same time,_ Judith wasn't James fucking Bond.

 

But there were alternatives. Judith refused to believe that Freddie had all her information, all her pictures, all her articles, all the stuff she hadn't published, in that laptop. It would be reckless and she could lose everything if something happened to that laptop. There had to be an external hard drive, somewhere. It took her a while because Judith had to be careful not to make any noise that could make Freddie wake up, but she finally found a bunch of huge hard drives duct-taped to the lower side of a drawer. They all had dates written on paper labels. Judith took the hard drive labeled as [2013-2014] and then spent long five minutes struggling to detach the label without breaking it. 

 

Finally, Judith stuck the label on another hard drive labeled as [2004-2005] to replace the hard drive she was going to take, put everything back in its place and the hard drive in her purse, and tiptoed her way back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>The title of the chapter and Jeff's crime scene were kinda inspired by Artemisia Gentileschi's painting "Judith Slaying Holofernes" (also, there is a really interesting post on tumblr about Artemisia that you should be able to find in my blog Your-Laugh-Is-A-Shower-In-Hell under the *art tag, it's definitely worth the reading)  
> >>Green Willow means false love in plant symbolism  
> >>Apparently, Freddie fucked Brian Zeller in order to get information about Will, so now it seems that Judith is fucking Freddie in order to get information about Will :D


	4. Death At The Stake

**4.**

 

Okay. Baltimore had a huge problem with serial killers, it seemed. Unfortunately it was a matter of quality and not quantity. Judith found a lot of plain, boring people (mostly men, but also some women) that would never attract Will back from retirement. Not at least in a way that he would need Hannibal's help, anyway.

 

Even though there were 'so many' people (or maybe because of that)  Judith soon felt overworked. It took time, and effort, to search in the news and newspaper in order to find a pattern, to identify each serial killer characteristics. Only to then decide that, nope, they weren't what Judith was looking for. She had promised herself that she would look for a nice ballet studio but instead Judith found herself every night mug of coffee in hand and Stravinsky playing on Spotify while she pinned newspapers to the wall and felt like an amateur detective. But Judith had time, she didn't need to hurry even if her ballet shoes were practically screaming at her from under the bed inside their little box

 

Her search made her fridge quickly become full and Judith had to start giving food to her neighbors. She just couldn't eat everything, and sneaking little portions to Hannibal wasn't worth the risk, at least until she got better at cooking. However, Mrs Ramírez with four children at the next door and the college sorority in front of her house were really thankful each time Judith gave them food, even if it didn't taste as good as it should have, so it wasn't a problem. Soon enough serial killers with little imagination and some other sins (Judith found it quite interesting that she gladly accepted murder and cannibalism, but pedophilia, rape... Those were some some red lines nobody was going to cross in front of her. Or at least they wouldn't survive crossing them) found their way into Judith's kitchen.

 

Sometimes they were quite willing to go to her kitchen, actually. It was really amusing to see them, mostly the men, never being aware of how she was luring them. Any real killer should be able to see another one, to recognise others. But she found quite funny that they would give up any caution, any concern, just because she wasn't big or intimidating. She was just some foreign girl with a Spanish accent that nobody would miss, just a body to sometimes rape and always kill. They weren't counting on her own strength, they didn't expect the knife behind her back or her teeth on their throats, they weren't expecting the tub full of water, the electric stove.

 

In the end, it only proved what she had first thought. None of these people would be interesting enough for Will, and her cooking skills were still pretty nonexistent.

 

-o-

 

"So far we have Artemisia Gentileschi's '[Judith Slaying Holofernes](http://cdn.uffizi.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/artemisia-judith.jpg)', Picasso's '[The Old Guitarist](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/b/bc/Old_guitarist_chicago.jpg/1200px-Old_guitarist_chicago.jpg)',  Manet's '[Un bar aux Folies Bergère](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/0d/Edouard_Manet%2C_A_Bar_at_the_Folies-Berg%C3%A8re.jpg/1200px-Edouard_Manet%2C_A_Bar_at_the_Folies-Berg%C3%A8re.jpg)', Dalí's '[Christ of Saint John of the Cross](https://cdn.thinglink.me/api/image/628771842189950977/1240/10/scaletowidth)', Gran Wood's '[American Gothic](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/cc/Grant_Wood_-_American_Gothic_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg/1200px-Grant_Wood_-_American_Gothic_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg)'...

"All of them exsanguinated and mutilated alive?"

"All of them exsanguinated and mutilate alive." Brian nodded at Jimmy's question. "Although their mutilating skills are definitely improving."

 

Jack couldn't exactly yell at none of them because, well, they had discovered the art pattern, so he sighed and went for another coffee. It was going to be a long night.

 

-o-

 

Somewhere in between the murders, Judith met Barbara in a half-built alley while the other girl was starting to burn down a shop. She looked at Judith and almost growled, the gasoline and the matches still in her hands and building supplies around her. Somebody was screaming inside the shop. Judith shook her head.

“What a way of wasting perfectly edible meat.” she regretted. Whether the other girl truly understood Judith's words, it didn't really matter. “Well? You must be aware that there is a back door.”

 

At those words, the girl ignored her and went to finish her job. Judith followed her when she finished barely three minutes after, to a park in which they sat.

“Are you going to turn me in?” the girl asked. She didn't look scared. Just thinking about the fuel she would need to burn Judith up. Judith giggled.

“Love, I could have knocked you out with the loose bricks at that alley. It isn't about that. I'm Judith.” she said, smiling. The other girl frowned. She was pretty with her dark skin and black thin dreadlocks. She was wearing a tank top and the skin on her arms reflected the lights from the police and the firemen that rushed to the shop. Both girls turned their backs to the cars. _  
_

“I'm... I'm Barbara.”

 

And then it all started. Curious about the girl that wouldn't report her, Barbara somehow managed to track her down. Not that Judith actually took care to stop the other girl from tracking her down.

“People are talking,” Barbara said, standing outside Judith's door and awkwardly swinging from one side to the other. “About the new killer in town. Said to be carrying out a purge.”

“How are they calling them?” Judith asked, taking a sip from her mug. From Barbara's point of view, it probably looked like really dark coffee.

“The Artist. They take people and those people are never seen again but mutilated and resembling paintings. It has been going on for only a month, but...”

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

 

Barbara blinked.

“What? Like... Like, a date?”

“It could be a date. If you want to.”

“Oh... Okay, yeah, sure, why not.” Barbara blushed, and Judith's smile turned sharper.

 

-o-

 

"Honestly, this isn't my average date."

 

Judith managed to finally rip off the leg. Cursing under her breath, she struggled to put it inside a big plastic bag, put the knife apart and turned around. With her legs crossed and sitting on some logs, Barbara didn't look afraid, or worried, or freaked out even though Judith had just mutilated some chick in front of her. Even though she had helped Judith to knock the chick out after they left a nice restaurant.

 

"But?" Judith asked, raising an eyebrow. Barbara smiled.

"But I like it."

 

Judith blew her a kiss before getting down to business. It took her ten long minutes to tie the chick to the stake inside the sawmill and said chick died somewhere along the process, so at least she stopped moving.

 

"What did she do?" Barbara asked. "I mean. Did she do anything?"

"Yup," Judith answered, panting. "This bitch was late or something so she tried to get on the bus as soon as she could, even if that meant pushing kids out of the way and asking the driver to go 'fucking faster'. Then the kids started crying, some old lady complaining, and general pandemonium until I got to my stop."

"Fair enough." Barbara shrugged. "Okay, my turn. Is she tied up?"

"She's dead."

"Oh, fine."

 

Judith stepped back to watch Barbara take matches and a gasoline can. The other girl made sure to pour the fuel all around the dead girl, on the logs that supported the stake before igniting a match.

"Now, careful," she said, grabbing Judith's hand and making her move backward before throwing the match. Judith gasped when suddenly huge flames appeared in front of her; the heat made her close her eyes for a second but even then she was able to see the fire through her eyelids.

"That was AWESOME," Judith smiled like mad. The sawmill was covered in sawdust that made the fire grow quickly and soon it began to surround them. But none of the girls moved, not even when the heat started to be a little bit too much. Judith felt hypnotized looking at her own Joan at the stake. The fire hadn't quite reached her but the flames were around her like a red and yellow cocoon and it was truly beautiful.

 

Judith glanced at Barbara and found the other girl with an expression of pure joy on her face and her chest going up and down due to her heavy breathing. Her pupils were completely dilated as if she were high, and her lips parted and Judith was a ~~gay~~ bisexual mess and couldn't help but to take her face between her hands and kiss her right then and there. Barbara made an adorable surprised noise but didn't pull apart, lifting her head instead so Judith didn't have to bend down so much and dropping kisses all over Judith's face once the taller girl had to pull apart for air.

 

Judith was quite aware that she was sweaty due to the heat and was ninety percent sure that there was a stupid look on her face, but Barbara's arms were still around her waist and she was giving Judith the fucking cutest smile ever that looked even cuter because of how small Barbara was compared to her. So Judith didn't fucking care.

 

"So..."

"We get out of here before we burn along with that bitch and... Talk?"

"Yup."

 

-o-

 

Barbara moved in after a month.

 

-o-

 

Sharing her house with Barbara was... Quite interesting. The whole place smelled of gasoline and wood and Judith's disasters at the kitchen and honestly, it was kind of surreal to be watching some movie while you had your feet on your girl's lap and said girl was eating your 'vegan' meals -because that was just another surprise for Judith. Barbara was vegan but didn't give a shit about Judith's cooking.

“I mean,” Barbara said one day, munching a piece of the nasty postman that tried to look through their window one morning. She was sitting on top of the counter, her bare legs swinging in the air and being just cute in general while Judith tried to cook. “it is meat. It's fucking meat. So many people consume meat and other animal products and they have no problem. But suddenly I am expected to find human flesh disgusting and repulsive? No way. What they do to animals is truly repulsive and nobody wants to see it. Besides, animals don't deserve the way they are treated. But this fucker had it coming.”

“Indeed. Little pervert... Hey, I was thinking about maybe becoming vegan too. Or at least start at vegetarianism and then... Fuck!” Judith yelled when suddenly the frying pan caught fire. She quickly tossed it into the sink and opened the water tap, and then pandemonium started when boiling olive oil started to shoot out from the frying pan. Both girls squealed, trying to protect themselves from getting burned while at the same time trying to actually put out the fire.

"Are... Are you okay?” Judith asked, taking her hair out of her face when the fire was finally out. Barbara nodded and then both of them looked around at their disaster of a kitchen. Judith finally couldn't stop her own laugh and after a fake pout, Barbara started to laugh as well.

“And you say your father actually cooks really well?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. Judith nodded, smiling. “When am I going to meet him?”

“Oh. Well, when we find our man. Our woman. Our whatever.” Judith shrugged.

 

Apparently, Judith was lucky enough to meet probably the only girl in all of America that actually admired Hannibal and his work. And, that girl was also into girls. Damn lucky.

 

“Well, we would have our 'whatever' if somebody could stop butchering all the murderers in a 50 miles-radius...” Barbara protested, starting to clean up the mess while Judith phoned a home-made pizza restaurant three blocks away.

“Well, if somebody could fucking start murdering people with minimal imagination... Oh, yes, hello Allan. Yes, the vegan pizza. Thank you, you are the best.”

 

-o-

 

It had to happen at some point. One day, after they had been reading about Judith's work on the newspaper (her father was both delighted at her depiction of [Gernica](https://arsmomentum.files.wordpress.com/2017/11/guernica_all-1.jpg) and curious about what she had cooked afterwards. Judith didn't have the heart to tell him that she had burnt the meat a bit. Again) Hannibal straight up smelled her just before she could leave the cell.

“I like your new perfume,” he said after he made one of his unreadable gestures, while he signed. _You started dating somebody and you didn't tell your old father?_

 _You are not that old._ Judith answered. Touching her neck, she guessed that the making out with Barbara that morning had left its trace. _And yes, I'm dating somebody._

 

What she wanted to say was more along the lines of 'You have been here for more than a year pining for a man that can't make up his damn mind about killing people, don't tell me about dating' but well, she wasn't _rude_.

 

Hannibal smiled a bit.

_Well, in that case, please tell them that coniferous in general aren't fit for burning. They should try maybe oak, or hickory._

 

While she left the cell Judith quickly smelled her hair. It didn't... It didn't smell of smoke, right? Barbara had indeed burned something down, the night before but Judith had taken a shower that same morning, it was impossible that...

 

“Miss Lewis?” Dr. Bloom asked. She seemed worried. “Are you okay?”

 

Even after all those months, she was still behind Hannibal's door every time that Judith 'treated' him. The girl quickly nodded and left before Dr. Bloom could tell her of switching to another patient. It had already happened a couple of times and it was a matter of time before Dr. Bloom got suspicious. After all, who in their right mind would want to be with Hannibal in a cage on a weekly basis?

 

After leaving the hospital Judith went to a nearby mall to pick up an order from Barbara, some old photographs from part of her family back in the Bahamas and some videos of Barbara herself as a child. The attendant, however, seemed a bit confused.

“I... I am sorry to ask, miss.” he started. He spoke slowly, kinda struggling to pronounce. Judith thought that maybe it was because the scar on his mouth, but didn't hurry him. “Are you... Sure this is your order?”

“Do you mean because the kid on the video and the people on the photographs are black?” Judith asked, smiling a bit. “It isn't a mistake. I'm picking them up for my girlfriend.”

“I'm sorry,” he repeated, obviously trying not to blush. “I just... Wanted to make sure. That I hadn't... Messed it up.”

“It's okay, don't worry.”

“Is the child on the video your daughter?”

 

Judith had been taking her wallet from her purse, but that question and the way it was made made her look up again. She blinked. The... Man? In front of her wasn't the same one from just seconds before. There was something completely different about him, about the way he stood behind the counter, about the way he spoke. About his eyes. And suddenly, Judith was thankful for not having a child.

“No,” she said, smiling again. “That is my girlfriend when she was little. Damn, you guys really do a good job here if the video looks actual.”

 

After that, the change back was easy to see. The hunter hadn't found a prey, it seemed.

 __Oh,__ Judith thought, taking her phone. __But I've just found mine._ _

 

_ To: Bae♥_

_I found our bait._

 

_From: Bae♥_

_great. hope your fisherman likes it. by the way, i made it into the news. the fire at the factory_

 

_To: Bae♥_

_Really? That's my girl! :D xxx_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>Murder and title of the chapter inspired by "Joan Of Arc's Death At The Stake" by Hermann Anton Stilke


End file.
